


A Cold Embrace From My Mother

by ps_spxlls



Category: Original Work
Genre: Confusion, Corpses, Darkness, Death, Fear, Gothic, Ihavenoideawhatimdoinganymore, Literature, Memories, Pain, Paranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 22:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ps_spxlls/pseuds/ps_spxlls
Summary: I was sworn in by the Devil to reign as their one true god.✙The embrace of a family member or friend is supposed to bring joy or peace, but sometimes when it comes to a comforting hug, the results can be scattered. Trama disposed by a loved one can haunt an individual and cause them to do disastrous things.2020





	A Cold Embrace From My Mother

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this Gothic Literature for an English assignment.
> 
> There’s nothing more to say on that.
> 
> So I present:
> 
> A Cold Embrace From My Mother

The embrace of a family member or friend is supposed to bring joy or peace, but sometimes when it comes to a comforting hug, the results can be scattered. Trauma disposed by a loved one can haunt an individual and cause them to do disastrous things.

Often my past reappeared in my mind and created a tension within my new life. At first, I struggled with it because I knew that I could not alter a past that I could not remember. No matter how hard I wished it though, I could never put a stop to my nonsense behavior at that time. I knew I still would have turned into the monster I was born to be.

The caress of the harsh wind strained against my heavy winter coat. The feeling of isolation encased me as I stepped over the town line, back into a place that never wanted me. It was like everyone had someone to turn to, a friend at anytime they were in need. I found it funny how everyone in my hometown knew each other like the back of their hand, like they had read the biographies of one another. Those people, however, would never know who I truly was and my life would never be in some silly book. I did not exist in their eyes, nor their pages, too condemned by a past of someone else's implementation.

There seemed to be a curse of some kind on the town — an absence of emotion behind everyone's door. An open void that forcefully gripped the thin line of sanity that very few still held dear. They all knew the tales were true, that something evil stalked their quiet town. Perhaps it was one of their friends, maybe even a family member, some demented miscreant who evolved in darkness while everyone else was left to rot with the dying planet. Footsteps echoed around me as I passed streets that were deserted and completely scarce of a friendly face or sound.

There was an incident, horrid and excruciating to think about from when I was young. After that day, an eerie silence had taken over the town, turbulent when it came to their once peaceful solace. It seemed like everyone was afraid of their own shadow, as though they would be corrupted by a hidden darkness that was cast over their town.

As I observed my old, damaged home there was a reminiscent solitude to the bare walls. I pulled my coat tighter around my body and risked a step further inside. My head filled with fog and my body became numb to any possible perpetrators inside. I recognized that my once home had become a place of decay and ruin. My eyes darted to every nook and cranny, in search for the smallest of details of what once occupied that space. Fragments of paper, cloth and debris were strewn across the floor, almost in a frantic ideation. Among the debris there seemed to be a dark and dried substance, irrelevant to the rest of the room. Upon further inspection it seemed to lead to the end of the hall, a room mother never let anyone enter.

Confused, yet intrigued I cautiously made my way down the hall. I forced my body to be as small as can be, feeling as though I was a miniscule child just like I had been back then. The dimly lit hallway struck me with panic, the darkness caused my eyes to bulge for light and the eerie air of the house grew heavier. I reached a hand out to gently guide me against the cold wall, fingertips frozen upon impact. My feet were glued to the ground in fear of the door, I was petrified. I knew nothing of what was behind that door, nor could I even imagine.

Rage fumed inside me as I thought of how scared I was of something that had no control over me, I refused to let anyone do that again. I wound my hand around the door knob and attempted to open it, with no such luck. Slumped against the door, I knocked my head against the wood, embarrassed by the weakness I showed in a time of need. I needed to know the truth and all the secrets would be revealed, darkness would be snuffed out. I slammed my body against the door once more with an immense amount of force that I had never possessed until then.

With that final blow, the lock to the door shattered and fell to the ground in bits and pieces. My hands traced the wall in search of a light switch, the lights blinked on and it filtered light inside the room that smelled of something metallic. As I adjusted to the new found light, I looked around me. The only thing in the room was a closet and an old television. The television was cracked and covered in dust, but regardless it flickered with a grey static. The light from the screen illuminated my face and I felt like I was drained, out of place in this strange and empty room. The static television began to flash vibrant colors before it turned black. I reached forward and turned it back on, this time however, instead of static or colors, a wicked smile appeared on the screen. A sickly sweet voice filled my ears, the first voice I had heard that day and somehow I was filled with relief. For I knew that voice, my mother, only she would carry the same singsong tone even in a time of terror.

I squinted my eyes and rubbed at some of the dust coated screen. I watched as my mother danced around an eldery man, her movements precise and mapped out. The man was shadowed by some kind of hood, a crestfallen expression etched onto his face. Mother stepped behind the man and gently wrapped an arm around him. He turned his head to look at her, but before he could say anything she slashed his neck open, blood pooling around the exposed skin and swimming down his neck.

I was consumed by absolute terror, my eyes filled with tears as I rushed away from the screen. I felt my hands reach up to my head, I tugged at my hair as more images of the man on the screen flashed. Organs poured out of his body, as he drowned in his own blood. The screen changed once more, this time my mother stood alone, the wall behind her covered in blades and photos of bodies. She called my name and I froze as my younger self was pushed into the camera's view. My vision blurred as I attempted to remember any of what may have happened, but nothing came to me. I was a pathetic blank slate, no recollection of that room nor the torture my mother took part in.

I heard a scream come from the television, my eyes snapped back, shocked by the images. My younger self, laughed hysterically as my mother fell to the ground, a dagger like blade protruded from her abdomen and her mouth spewed clotted blood. Her face twisted into a smirk-like smile, almost like she wanted to congratulate my younger self. The camera zoomed in on her faded, bloodshot eyes as my younger counterpart dropped to his knees and quickly began to work on his mother again, the blade removed was now held between his hands as he sliced at her worn, rigid body. Image after image appeared, first her skin torn from her body and draped on the wall, lined up with the blades before it was sown into a medieval mask. My younger self remained in the cameras view, his hands and face covered in dried blood. He grabbed the mask and pulled it on, the sutures squealed in delight and he grinned at his finished product.

I had no idea what to feel, my hands were cold and my head ached. Everything that occurred had to be some kind of sick dream. That was not my mother, not my town, that was all a joke. Maybe, I tried to convince myself, I was in Hell, perchance being punished for all my fantasized wrongdoings. I was incapable of murder, of an indescribable and illegal act of violence. I screamed, spooked by the images.

A knock interrupted my outburst and I was beside myself when it came, once again, from the closet. I trembled as paranoia seeped in and the situation became more dire. I forced myself to step closer. The door shook and I braced myself to open it. A thick fog rolled around my feet, the metallic smell from earlier grew stronger and I felt like it suffocated me. A dark figure swayed back and forth in a circular motion, something fell from it, or rather dripped from it, onto the floor in an irregular pattern. I turned the light on and came face to face with what looked like the corpse of my mother. Her body was mangled and decomposing, yet it still dripped blood that had yet stagnitized. Behind her body, dozens of vivid eyes gazed at me, a scarlet red glow beckoned me further inside and I felt an urge to pursue them.

No longer in control of my thoughts or actions, my body descended into the closet where I wrapped my arms around the cold and decayed corpse. Detrimental denial of what occurred was erased from my mind as shadows surrounded my mother's body and I. There were whispers and the room grew icy. I was torn, I should have fled but I was comforted and loved in the most beautimous ways by my mother and her demons. They orchestrated me into their grasp and throned me as their new master, the ringleader to the end of the world. I was sworn in by the Devil to reign as their one true god.


End file.
